5 - 7 May 2003 Milos

She stood by the wharf a holding a handwritten sign ' Room to let' it read in faded red texta. Around her hotel representatives and pension owners stood, holding bright colour brochures and standing beside courtesy vehicles. As the ferry came in and arrivals trickled out she stood in the midst of the the bargaining and haggling, an uncertain smile on her face and the sign held up like a plea.

She has two rooms in her house, which she lets in the off season for 20 Euro a night. Since September 2001 it's been the off season in the Islands.

She struggles with the stairs leading up from the harbour, away from the view, the nightlife and restaurants. If she can fill one room from the morning ferry, then maybe she can fill the second room from the evening ferry. The stairs will seem longer the second time around and the other room won't be any more full for the climb.

Her english is limited. She holds up a ringless finger - it's her final selling point. She is alone in the world. A room filled is income, and existance comprises of small steps, measured 20 Euro at a time. The room is filled and Bush hasn't yet won the war against tourism.